Little Pieces Of My Heart On The Floor
by theSoundofLiterature
Summary: Rachel gets news at her wedding. This is me, emotionally releasing after all of the trauma of 3X14. It isn't happy. But...I'm still sad.


**A/N: 3X14 has emotionally destroyed me. I knew of the spoilers...but it didn't make it hurt any less. If you haven't seen 3X14 this might spoil it. But it's merely suggestive. I'm sorry for the sad...I couldn't write anything happy. And I need hugs. Still crying. Anyway ...here is the result of my emotional release haha, it is un-beta'ed. And I'm still a wreck over Quinn Fabray, so any and all mistakes are all mine. **

The wooden floor is shiny. Just polished, Rachel thinks as she burns her eyes right through it. She can feel her heart beating in her chest – and her legs fall weak. She would run if she could.

_Where to, Rachel Berry? _

Instead she shakes her head, gripping onto a borrowed bouquet of white lilies with fierce determination.

Time has run out. This is what she's always wanted.

This is what she's opening her bright eyes to.

But why does she feel so empty?

She can barely breath in her white dress. It fit perfectly at the bridal shop. But now it simply feels wrong. Too tight, not hemmed enough. The length is all wrong.

And she can't _breathe_.

The music starts and the doors open, showing the continuing hardwood...the waiting altar.

_Click, clack. Click, clack._

When did she start walking?

She doesn't recall, but her lips part as she struggles to breathe in clean air. She whips her head to the left and sees Santana. She wants the brunette to run after her and grip her by the waist and pull her away from all of this. She needs someone to save her.

She turns to her right, and she sees her fathers. They smile back at her – but she knows this isn't what they want. Is this even what she wants?

_Fifteen feet._

And there's Finn. Smiling. And she can't smile back – she's a second away from bursting into tears.

_Five feet._

Her feet stop, stalling. Keep stalling, Rachel, just a little bit longer.

She's still waiting for Quinn. She promised that she would wait.

It's her last bit of saving grace – her last bit of hope – she clenches her eyes shut and prays for redemption. But the clock ticks mercilessly, and her time has finally run thin. She's waited long enough, they've said.

She looks up again, and Finn is puzzled, he isn't sure why she's stopped walking. She can see it in his face. She shakes her head and bristles, holding back the impending tears with the last of her conviction. She can't break now. She won't allow it.

_Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack…_

_Zero feet._

Her feet stop again, and she looks down. Seeing white kitten heeled shoes tipping towards large scuffed black dress shoes. And they aren't what she's searching for – Finn isn't what she wants for the rest of her life – She won't be able to live with herself if she has to bear witness to these scuffed leather shoes for the rest of her life. And she wants to run with every ounce of fiber in her being. But she can't. Not now.

"Welcome. Today we celebrate the union between Finn Patrick Hudson, and Rachel Barbra Berry."

She wants to slap the Justice in the face. She wants to rip off this dress, and throw her small engagement ring onto the floor. She wants Santana, or Mercedes, or Kurt…she wants them to stop this mistake. And no one understands – her last hope – is late. And she hasn't heard back in nearly twenty minutes. Quinn hasn't saved her. Quinn won't be saving her.

"Would any wit—"

The Justice doesn't finish his proceedings. The room has grown quiet, save for the swinging of the large courtroom doors. She turns. Two policemen wait at the threshold of the hardwood floor that she's just descended. And without a word – Rachel can already feel her heart breaking. She can feel it shriveling up in her chest, and suffocating her from the inside out. _She feels so empty._ And she doesn't even feel her legs give way as her body tumbles to the floor. And Finn does something right for once – he catches her sloppily before her head can hit the floor – but it doesn't quell the pain. She can feel it in her body, she can hear it in the way that her chest constricts and small sobs begin to emanate from her painted lips.

And all that the policemen can give her is sympathy…and maybe pity. She can see it in their eyes, even though no one else can. Not yet. How could they? She can recall it in her unanswered messages. She can taste it in the air – and she needs to get out of this place. She needs to know that everything will be _all right._

"Rachel. Rachel? Are you okay?"

There are voices surrounding her now, and none of them are the one she wants to hear. Her vision blurs and she feels like vomiting…all over this ugly white dress.

Instead she turns her eyes up to the closest police officer, her cheeks are stained with running tears, and when her deep mahogany eyes meet with his tired gray ones – she can't help the breaking sob that wreaks havoc on her small bones. Shaking her resolve, and reaffirming her fears.

"I don't understand…what?"

"Why are there cops at our wedding?"

She doesn't have the heart to say – if she speaks, it will only make it true.

Her fault.

This is all her fault.

"We are terribly sorry to be the bearers of such terrible news… "

She doesn't let their words reach her ears – because she already knows what they are going to say. She knew when she took her first step down cracked hardwood. She knew when her heart stopped beating, and her eyes drifted to her silent phone.

And as the incredibly small congregation collapses in on itself, Rachel falls to the floor. Discarded unintentionally from Finn Hudson's now impossibly weak arms. And as her head hits the hardwood thickly, she thinks – if only I could have fallen a little bit harder. Maybe then – Quinn wouldn't be so alone.

She doesn't know. She can't know. If Quinn is dead or alive, or in the OR, or damaged beyond repair….

Because her heart will shatter into a million little pieces, and she won't be able to mend it – no, not this time.

Not when she's the one who wielded the sledgehammer. Not when she's the culprit. And as she falls into a faint – and her eyes close to a peaceful darkness. All that she thinks as the thud throbs at her temple, and her muscles relax in the feeling of delayed lightness...

Is that this was all her fault.

_All her fault._

She sees a flash of hazel eyes swim behind her eyelids, and in her dreams she smiles warmly. She sees a bright smile, and she sees eternally enchanting lips calling for her in the darkness. And for once, this time…she follows.

And perhaps…

This is Quinn saving her all along.


End file.
